


Signal to Noise

by Viridian5



Category: Weiss Kreuz
Genre: Drama, Introspection, M/M, Psychic Abilities, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-11-11
Updated: 2002-11-11
Packaged: 2017-10-02 08:15:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian5/pseuds/Viridian5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We all find serenity in different ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Signal to Noise

**Author's Note:**

> Slight spoilers for "Mission 18: Schuld -- Farfarello" and "Mission 23: Schraube -- Everything for Love."
> 
> Farfarello's question to Schuldig in "Mission 23: Schraube -- Everything for Love" about whether thoughts taste like honey changed my conception of his inner landscape.

Light broke the darkness as the door opened behind me and someone flipped the light inside on. I hated that Crawford hung me facing away, but he meant this to be punishment. Wrapped in a full-body straitjacket, I couldn't go where I pleased, mark myself as I desired, or do my work. But I accepted Crawford's authority, so I had to accept his punishments, at least for now, as long as Schwarz served my purposes.

The blood rush to my head from being hung upside down helped me in my reflections.

Crawford didn't stand behind me. Schuldig did. They had different footfalls. My heart sped. Did Schuldig need me?

He walked around me, then sat crossed-legged on the floor facing me, with my head hanging slightly above his. Usually he seemed calm, dark, deep, like still water, but right now his eyes glittered like glass shivering in the pane before it shattered.

Sister Ruth told us that God could hear all of our thoughts, which was a horrifying thought. Schuldig could hear like God, which was a beautiful blasphemy. If I had such power, I would remake the world in my image. Schuldig remade the world... _not_ in his image. While he stayed calm, he made people burn and totter, stripped pieces of their selves away and made them puppets. But flesh paid the price of power because God punished those who tried to climb above what He decreed. Sometimes hearing like God became too much for Schuldig, with his shields breaking and all the thoughts drowning him.

Then he would come to me.

He reached out and pushed my shoulder, which made me swing and the leather straps creak. "I'm not close enough," he said. He knelt to put his head higher, closer to mine. Yes. Come closer. Pray to _me_.

Schuldig said that he might not be able to read my specific thoughts most of the time, but he enjoyed my focus and the consistency of my desires. He found me calming.

He rested his forehead against my collarbone, his long, flyaway red hair sliding lightly across my face like shadows. "Not close enough," he said again, his breath briefly hot against my exposed neck.

How I wanted him to bite.... No, I wanted something else. When Schuldig suffered in such a state and came this close to me, I could make him do things.

Taste me.

His mouth met mine hungrily, bringing the bitter flavor of ashes, as his hands pulled down at the straps that hung me from the ceiling and the strings of my eye patch. His thumb rubbed over and over at one of the scars on my face, reaffirming me. I am. I _am_. I could feel my blood rushing through my body.

Hurt me.

He bit into my lip, bringing clarity sharp and sudden. My blood tasted thick and metallic like my blades, delicious, full of knowledge. We devoured each other's mouths, and again I wondered what thoughts tasted like. What mine tasted like.

Although I could move only my head right now, I felt powerful. Usually I controlled others through threats and fear, but here my wants alone, unspoken, made Schuldig do what I wished. God coerced, but I didn't need to.

This felt wrong, which made it right.

Finally Schuldig pulled away, although he kept his grip on my head, and licked my blood from his lips. This is my body; this is my blood. When he opened his eyes, he looked like himself. "This is better," he said as he let go of my head, then stood.

As he left the room, I reminded him to turn the light out. I had visions to see before Crawford returned to free me.

 

### End


End file.
